


A History Of Confessions

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, Trans Character, and a few other characters but they don't see them speak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-17
Updated: 2015-02-17
Packaged: 2018-03-13 08:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3375404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Vargas family returns from their three year stay in Italy, and Alfred can just tell that he's going to mess something up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A History Of Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> In the hopes of avoiding confusion: Ms. Braginskaya is Ukraine, and Annabel de Burgh (I love this name so much) is Belgium.

Rumour had it that the Vargas family was coming back to town. 

Rumour had it that it wasn’t even a rumour since Ludwig Beilschmidt had been the first one to voice that it was even a possibility.

Rumour had it that Alfred F. Jones was not too fond of rumours and would much rather have some solid evidence so that we wouldn’t worry himself silly over something that wasn’t even happening.

“This is getting a bit pathetic, Al.”

“Fuck off, Matt.”

“He isn’t wrong, you know.”

“You too, Art.”

The pixelated image of Arthur Kirkland buffered as he sighed and crossed his arms. “I sincerely doubt that she’ll even remember it. She did have other things on her mind aside from your incredibly awkward confession.”

“She was moving to another country,” Matthew chimed in from the doorway.

“Speaking as someone who’s been on the receiving end of one of your poorly executed confessions,” Arthur added, “I only remember it when I’m prompted to. And my biggest concern then was adjusting to a new chest binder.”

Alfred groaned and rested his forehead against the edge of his desk.

Chiara Vargas was the prettiest girl Alfred had ever seen, and he had no doubt that she’d only gotten prettier since they’d last seen each other at the unfortunate age of thirteen. Her family had packed up and moved away to Italy for reasons that Alfred still wasn’t entirely aware of - although Arthur claimed that it had something to do with a sick relative, if Antonio was to be trusted - and Alfred had decided that if he was ever going to admit that he had feelings for her then he should man up and do it before she left. So he’d marched over to her house with a mouth full of newly acquired braces, and delivered what could arguably be called the most embarrassing confession in history. Not even his absolutely cringe worthy attempt at asking Arthur on a date nearly two years later could compare.

Alfred had never explained the true extent of how awful that final conversation with Chiara had been to his step brother or his ex-boyfriend/best friend, and he wasn’t planning on doing so any time soon. Unfortunately, that meant that they were much more optimistic about the Vargas’ return than Alfred could ever afford to be.

Arthur’s sigh filtered through the computer speakers again. “And you’re positive that the family is, in fact, returning?”

“Ludwig and Kiku stayed in contact with Feli,” Alfred explained without bothering to lift his head. “And they’re both saying yes.”

“It’s rather odd that they’re moving back now though, isn’t it? Why aren’t they finishing high school in Italy?”

Alfred raised his arm, and gestured for Matthew to come into the room and share the knowledge he’d garnered from spending far too much time in the Beilschmidt household over the summer.

“Their parents ended up having another kid while they were over there, and were planning to move back once Marcello was old enough to start school.” Matthew slid a hand between the desk and Alfred’s forehead, and guided Alfred back into a proper sitting position. “But they didn’t want to abandon their other children despite there being an abundance of relatives for them to live with.”

“Hmm.” Arthur’s image froze momentarily before righting itself. “I still think you’re blowing this out of proportion, Alfred.”

Alfred crossed his arms, and slid down in his seat. “Has Antonio ever mentioned something about Chiara’s deep rooted dislike for me?”

“He fell out of contact with her shortly after you did, and no.”

“Can you ask him if she ever said something like that?” Alfred mumbled through a pout. He glared at Matthew who muttered an expression of disbelief.

“If it wasn’t three in the morning his time, then maybe I would.” Arthur shook his head. “You really need to stop acting like a child and accept the fact that Chiara has probably had much more on her mind the last few years than the feelings of thirteen year old she probably thought that she’d never see again.”

“Whatever,” Alfred grumbled, and quickly cut off the call.

“I hope you plan on apologizing for that when you talk to him next.”

Alfred shrugged, and shut down his computer.

“Well,” Matthew said, moving towards the door, “I’ll let mom know that her five year old is on the way to bed.”

Alfred gave his brother the finger, and saw Matthew reciprocate the gesture out of the corner of his eye.

 

The first day of school always brought back flashes of memory. The late nights pulled for last minute studying and assignments, the events that had happened the year before that some students still laughed at, and the feeling of crushing disappointment all rushed to the forefront of Alfred’s mind before he’d even claimed his desk in homeroom.

The sight of the Vargas twins entering the room, however, brought back a more specific memory; one of spending a Friday night, two weeks after Alfred and Arthur had started dating, getting a plethora of new terms and definitions drilled into his head.

The older Vargas twin was no longer Chiara. That much was obvious.

Feliciano was speaking animatedly with the teacher, while his twin was scanning the room with furrowed eyebrows. In order to avoid catching the older Vargas’ eye, Alfred immediately turned and directed his gaze towards Matthew, who sat in the second last seat in the back due the alphabetical ordering the school was entirely too obsessed with.

Matthew shrugged in response to Alfred’s glare, mouthing the words “I didn’t know; it never came up”.

Ms. Braginskaya somehow managed to convince her homeroom to quiet down despite her stuttered request. She introduced the “new” students as Feliciano and Lovino Vargas, and seemed to sense that Lovino was not enjoying all of the stares that he was on the receiving end of as she quickly pointed out the seats that two brothers would be occupying for the year; the two seats to the left of Matthew.

Lovino passed Alfred’s desk on his way to the back of the room, and Alfred quickly glanced up at him. Luckily Lovino was too preoccupied by his destination that he didn’t look at Alfred in return because Lovino was still ridiculously attractive, and Alfred could see only a future of doubtless embarrassment ahead of himself.  
His cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket just as Ms. Braginskaya began to go through the school rules like homeroom teachers did every year.

_I just finished speaking to Antonio, who reports that Chiara is now Lovino and that he finally contacted Antonio again last night. Despite your incredibly rude dismissal, I felt that I should at least let you know about this change._

Alfred managed to quickly type out “ur a bit late on that front” before Ms. Braginskaya finished explaining the school’s strict policy when it came to phones.

 

“How did that never come up?”

“I don’t know, it just didn’t!”

Alfred angrily chewed through the flimsy hamburger that the cafeteria offered. “You can’t honestly tell me that neither of them mentioned him. Not even once?”

Matthew shook his head, swallowing the leftover chicken he’d packed that morning before speaking again. “Never by name. I just assumed they were talking about Marcello when they referred to Feliciano’s brother.”

Alfred groaned. “I’m going to mess up so bad, I can feel it.”

“You’ve never messed up with Arthur,” Matthew reminded him.

“Yeah, ‘cause I met him after he started going by ‘Arthur’; not whatever he was called before that.” Alfred hastily freed his second burger from its foil wrapping. “This sucks.”

Matthew’s reply was cut off by a tray being placed next to him.

“Alfred!” Feliciano slid into the chair next to Matthew. “Like I told your brother earlier, it’s wonderful to see you again!”

Alfred grinned. “It’s great to see you too, Feli. And you’re going to be super disappointed with that pasta.”

“I guess it really was too much to hope for,” Feliciano sighed.

“I don’t see why you thought it wouldn’t be.”

If it weren’t for the thick Italian accent on top of the deep voice, then Alfred wouldn’t have been able to even muster a guess as to who was in the process of sitting next to him.

“You’re much too harsh when it comes to food, Lovino,” Feliciano mock scolded.

Lovino smirked and Alfred felt himself internally swoon. “One of us has to be.”

Ludwig and Kiku claimed the free chairs on the other side of each Vargas brother, and Alfred wasn’t sure whether or not he wanted to curse Kiku for not arriving sooner and taking the chair next to him.

Feliciano quickly pulled Ludwig into a conversation about the differences between American and Italian transportation, leaving the rest of the table’s occupants to fend for themselves. Kiku and Matthew seemed perfectly content to eat in silence, but Alfred was a social creature who just happened to be sitting next to someone he hadn’t seen in years. Deciding that he should probably start speaking to Lovino again now instead of later, Alfred turned to look at him only to find that Lovino was already looking at him.

“Hey, Lovino,” Alfred chirped.

Lovino’s eyes narrowed imperceptibly. “Hey.”

“Something wrong?” 

“No.” Lovino hesitated. “You just… look different.”

_Look who’s talking._ Alfred snorted. “You didn’t think I’d have braces forever, did you?”

Lovino shrugged and redirected his gaze onto his salad, which he was poking at with one of the surprisingly durable plastic forks the school had invested in.

Alfred looked over to Matthew, and raised his eyebrows as if to say “See?”

Matthew slowly shook his head.

 

Matthew soon became Alfred’s source for everything concerning the Vargas family due to a combination of Matthew’s spending time with Ludwig’s brother, and his sitting next to as well as sharing the majority of his classes with them. It was mostly trivial things - Lovino wasn’t happy about moving back, Feliciano was worried about doing novel studies in English, Lovino had come second place in a writing contest last year - but Alfred was grateful to hear it nonetheless. While Feliciano would speak to him whenever they saw each other, Lovino was often dead silent.

Alfred supposed that it wasn’t all that different from when they were younger. Lovino used to stay relatively silent until someone said something he disagreed with, and he never gave anyone the silent treatment without telling them that he would first. Alfred wasn’t sure whether he’d prefer that Lovino’s refusing to talk to him was a result of something he’d managed to do recently, or that it was a result of his thirteen year old self and his pudgy face showing up on the Vargas’ doorstep the day before they left.

Arthur still believed that Alfred was overreacting.

He’d immediately launched into the story of Lovino’s reappearance after a rushed apology for hanging up on Arthur so abruptly the night before. Arthur’s attempts at reassurances fell on deaf and anxious ears.

“You said he wasn’t happy about moving back, didn’t you?” Arthur waited for a nod before continuing. “Then that’s probably it. He just has a terrible attitude.”

“Yeah, but why isn’t he happy about moving back?”

“Well it’s not like I’m able to answer that question, so you’ll have to -”

“No. I’m not asking him that.”

Arthur sighed. “Of course not. I’d say that it’s safe enough to assume that he rather enjoyed living in Italy, and that he didn’t appreciate being uprooted for his last two years of high school.”

“But how are we sure that it has nothing to do with me?”

 

It was halfway through November when Lovino spoke to him without being prompted to.

“Hey.”

Alfred nearly jumped at the sound of Lovino’s voice. He’d been waiting at the bus stop after a Saturday afternoon coffee supply run, and hadn’t heard Lovino’s approach.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

“I was visiting Annabel,” Lovino muttered.

“de Burgh?”

Lovino nodded.

Annabel had been in the graduating class of the year before along with Arthur, Antonio, and Gilbert. She’d decided to stay, like Gilbert, instead of going away to school, but she’d opened a flower shop with her older brother instead of studying mechanics and literature at the local university. Alfred hadn’t really known her all that well, but he supposed that it made sense for Lovino to know her considering how close they’d both been with Antonio.

“Did she miss you?”

Lovino clicked his tongue. “Of course she did. Who didn’t?”

Alfred made a noise of agreement before thinking about the consequences. “So, uh, are you adjusting okay?”

Lovino gave him a look that was frighteningly similar to the one he’d given him during the failed cafeteria conversation. “I guess.”

“You miss Italy?”

Lovino nodded. “I did sort of miss some people here when I was gone, but yeah. I… really liked living there.”

Alfred wasn’t sure whether he was thankful for the bus or not.

He moved to get on, but quickly realized that Lovino wasn’t following.

“You’re not coming?” he asked.

Lovino shook his head. “I’ve got places to go, and people to see.” He turned and began to walk down the road in the direction the bus had come from.

Alfred didn’t realize he was standing still and staring until the bus driver cleared her throat behind him. He avoided making eye contact with her as he dropped the change into the box.

 

Alfred began to make an effort to speak to Lovino, and found that Lovino spoke to him more often if Alfred made a move first. They weren’t especially close for the longest time, but they were taking baby steps towards something that resembled friendship. Feliciano was ecstatic, while Matthew and Arthur were happy that they no longer had to listen to Alfred complain on a constant basis.

Alfred really only felt comfortable with calling them friends once the summer rolled around, and he’d unintentionally introduced him to Arthur. Alfred and Matthew’s joint party was set to happen on the third that year, Alfred was ready to explain the strange circumstances surrounding their birthdays when Lovino reminded him that both him and Feliciano had had it explained to them years ago.

After being reminded of it, Alfred remembered when Matthew had told the Vargas twins the story of how their parents had met in the hospital after Feliciano had asked why they were the same age even though they had different birthdays. They’d been at the playground on the corner of the street that Alfred and Matthew lived on, and Lovino had fought Alfred for the last available swing before Matthew explained that his parents had already broken up when he was born, and that his dad had already agreed to take him. Then Mr. Williams had met Ms. Jones when the single mother had been rushed into the hospital on the evening of the 3rd of July, and the rest was history.

“That’s a stupid expression,” twelve year-old Lovino had announced.

Alfred had pouted. “That’s how they always end it.”

Alfred asked what Lovino thought of the expression now.

“It’s still fucking dumb.”

Lovino showed up much earlier than he needed to on the afternoon of the 3rd, without his brother in tow. He claimed to have needed to escape Marcello and the kid who’d come over to his house for a playdate, because he could feel his brain wilt away piece by piece every second he spent near them. Alfred had been in the middle of speaking with Arthur - who was there on one of his rare visits - when Lovino had shown up and, not wanting to turn away either of them, had decided that it was high time to introduce them to each other.

“I was wondering if I’d ever actually get to meet you,” Arthur said. “Between Alfred and Antonio, you’re practically all I hear about.”

“Antonio? So you’re that Arthur.”

Alfred silently thanked whatever was watching over him that Lovino had focused on the part about Antonio, and not the part about him.

 

Alfred had always known that he still had a crush on Lovino, but he didn’t truly understand the extent of it until the Christmas party that Gilbert had decided Ludwig was throwing at the last minute. 

The final year of high school was taking its toll on Alfred, and he embraced winter break with arms so open that they’d probably detach from his body if he physically opened them that far. Matthew poked his head into Alfred’s room the day after Alfred’s final exam and assessed the damage before asking if he wanted to go Christmas shopping. 

“Why? Who for?” Alfred muttered.

“Gil and Ludwig are throwing a Christmas party, and I know that you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t get something for Lovino.”

Alfred had fallen out of bed, gotten tangled in his clothes, and stumbled out the door.

He’d managed to find presents for nearly everyone after only an hour, but Lovino’s gift eluded him. Matthew rattled off suggestions, and Alfred texted Arthur and asked him to ask Antonio what Lovino would like after he’d exhausted Matthew’s limited resources. Arthur had reported back, along with a small amount of grumbling, that Lovino had a certain book in mind that Feliciano didn’t even know about.

Alfred wasn’t sure how he would explain the decision making process behind getting the book if asked, but he hunted it down and bought it without a second thought.

When the gift giving portion of the party came around, his present had been the last that Lovino opened. Lovino’s eyes lit up the moment he caught sight of the title, and Alfred felt his chest tighten.

Lovino looked up at him with a smile that grew in small increments every second. “Thank you.”

Alfred wasn’t sure what it was about that expression; whether it was a small detail or the look as whole, he couldn’t tell. But something about the way Lovino was looking at him brought a smile to his face that was so big that it nearly hurt.

The smile returned later that night when he noticed Lovino trying to read the first few pages while Gilbert danced with a noise maker permanently attached to his mouth around the chair Lovino had claimed.

 

Two days before he left for a university that was three states away, Lovino showed up on Alfred’s doorstep.

Alfred was too confused by his presence to properly invite him in - they’d been texting each other before the doorbell rang - before Lovino launched into what sounded like the beginning of a speech on the importance of friendship.

Alfred wasn’t entirely sure when it transitioned into a confession of feelings that was much more well worded than Alfred could ever hope to come up with, but somewhere after Lovino’s explanation of when he’d learned about gender identity and his reluctance to leave Italy, something clicked in Alfred’s head.

“Wait.”

Lovino immediately stopped speaking.

“Is this going where I think it is?”

“Well, if you’d let me finish then you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Alfred laughed, but stopped himself once he noticed Lovino crossing his arms over his chest in discomfort.

“Thank you for saving me from repeating my thirteen year-old self’s fucking embarrassment of a confession.”

They kissed shortly after that. Alfred was still willing to bet money that it was Lovino who started it.

 

Lovino accidentally ended calls with Alfred so many times in that first week of absence from each other that Alfred threatened to fly over to Italy in order to teach Lovino how to use the damn thing. He was almost disappointed when Lovino figured out how to use it without his help.

Alfred did end up flying over to Italy that summer, without any form of warning, only to find that Lovino had had the same idea and had secretly flown over to the US. They spent the week in each other’s rooms and told the other what places they should visit.

They were never sure how exactly they were supposed to explain how they’d met to people. Elizaveta, a woman who’d met Lovino at an event organized for the trans community at Alfred’s university during one of Lovino’s visits, pointed out that they told the story somewhat differently each time. Alfred would add or leave out a detail or two, while Lovino sometimes rearranged the order of events. They both, however, always ended it the same way.

“And the rest is history.”


End file.
